From the Ashes
by the tangerine otaku
Summary: [AU] In the wake of a nuclear catastrophe, 4 survivors must join forces to survive. Is their meaning just coincidental? Is there any such thing?
1. Recovery

Hyuu! Back again, this time with an AU. This is my first attempt at a serious story that isn't centered on any one character (Like Syaoran, heh), so wish me luck.

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From the ashes - A TRC AU Drama/Sci-fi fic

Rated T for blood/language/later chaptires

Chaptire 1 - Recovery

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It began and ended with a flash. The beginning of one life, the start of another. The alteration of paths, a coincidence that happened to bring total strangers together. But is there really any such thing as coincidence?

Can the world truly be ruled by such chaos?

- - - - - - -

"T-tou-san?"

Rubble was everywhere. As far as the eye could see, black as coal, the remains of a once great empire. They still smoked, even days after...

"Tou-san! Where are you?" The hoarse voice of a boy in pain. Scared, trapped beneath the ruins of what appeared to be a chimney, he let out a soft whine. No... he couldn't really die here, could he? He was 14, old enough, strong enough, it was his job to help support the family - his sick mother, if Tou-san was... gone. He wouldn't allow death to take him. He had a job to do.

But how to escape? He couldn't tell where he was all of a sudden... was he dead already? Were they dead too?

- - -

A sturdy man sat, hammering at a hot slab of metal, struggling to keep steady despite the loss of blood and open wounds. He had to do this. He had promised her he'd come back one day, when he was truly strong. When he could truly protect her...

He winced and griped his right shoulder. Blood had begun to run through the bandage where his arm had been severed. Not only there, he noticed, as his left knee too had become stained crimson. His red eyes flared, and he continued to work harder... he had to be able to move again. His years of metal-working experience couldn't fail him now, for his own sake.

- - -

The blonde slowly began to regain consciousness after the last tremor. First the total destruction, and then the earthquakes. My, what a splendid course he was headed on. His blue eyes widened, remembering what he had been watching so diligently.

He crawled out from under a beam that had once supported the school house roof, and stood. He opened his mouth to call his new found 'followers' - the few remaining children of the town, but felt no sound come out. He tried again, screaming this time - still nothing.

He let out a long sigh, and gave a weak smile. It had been getting worse since the whole mess began, and now he couldn't even whisper. And he found to his dismay his laugh had also been silenced. Now it would be exceptionally impossible to laugh about the unkind effects the radiation was having on him. Brilliant.

But he had to find the survivors. He had nothing else to do, but to save as many as he could and then... Well, what happened to him in the end didn't really matter, did it? In the wake of another earthquake, there would be even less to find than last time.

- - -

_"Tou-san... Kaa-san..."_ he opened his amber eyes, but strangely, saw naught but black.

He managed to wriggle an arm lose from beneath a piece of debris. He strained his neck to look back at it, and found that he couldn't see. Was it night already? Why did he swear he could still feel the rays of the sun, even through the ashy cloud?

"I can't see you, Tou-san, Kaa-san!" His voice cracked, panic in his voice. Had he become blind? There was no way he could escape from his predicament if he couldn't even see. He felt tears form at his eyes, and whimpered, a wolf cub in pain.

- - -

"_Tasukete..._"

The thin man's ears pricked up, hearing what sounded like a voice. If he wasn't mistaken, hearing things, or insane, this would be the only person he'd found. But how to communicate with him?

He climbed over a fallen light post, if that was what the mangled strip of metal was, and over to a mound of crumbling stone, amid stray wood splinters. A blood-stained hand extended at an awkward angle among the chunks of stone and charcoaled wood.

He cast aside the tattered brown trench-coat he wore, and rapidly began pushing the stones to the side. He smirked at how slow it was actually going - his light hands weren't used to such heavy work. When at last, bruises and cuts all up his arms, he spotted a head of tangled chocolate, and he shoved the restraining beam off of his back.

"Tou-san? Where are you? I can't..." The man noticed the boy's legs were still pinned beneath more stone, and his arms were gashed and bleeding. Despite this, however, he reached out his hands in front of him, not seeing the sharp edges of the wood splinters until they scraped at his hands. His brown eyes were wide, unblinking.

_He can't see?_ The older man mouthed, and then sighed grimly, not used to his lack of voice. Communication would be difficult, and the longer he took to decide what to do, the more frantic the boy may become, injuring himself more.

Reaching once more into the pile of rubble, he loosened the larger stones pinning the boy's legs, and gently gripped them, sliding them forward, to the boy's obvious alarm.

"Who's there? Are you going to take me away? I can't die yet, don't take me, please..." Apparently the blonde had been too quiet in his work. With each passing second, the boy thrashed to get away, and more blood dripped from the matching slices on his arms and legs. Without the use of sign language, how was he to warn him?

Slowly he squatted beside the boy, and reached for his left hand, taking it in both of his. Then he drew it close to his face, resting his palm on his cheek as he exhaled, letting the air pass between the younger one's fingers. _I'm not here to bring death, _he mouthed,_ See? I'm warm..._

- - -

The boy gasped as his hand was raised. Perhaps this was how souls were taken to the other side, by the icy hand of the devil. But this wasn't cold... his palm was being pressed against something warm..._alive._ Warm air... a cheek? He lifted his other hand and brushed the back against the source of warmth. Two pits, eyes... a nose... but no sound but his chest heaving in and out.

"You saved me?" he whispered, keeping a hand on the man's cheek, as he felt it move up and down - a steady nod. "Can you tell me your name?"

The man's head moved from side to side, and the younger one's face fell. He wouldn't speak for some reason, but still, he needed a guide... "I am called Syaoran, and... I'm afraid to say I can't see you..."

He felt the man sigh, and the corner of his lips rose, slightly. A smile.

"Will you help me? I need treatment, and I don't think I could find my way on my own."

- - -

The blonde man reached behind him, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. It fell back to it's usual position, grazing his eyelids, as he stood up. He watched the boy's - Syaoran's eyes flash at the loss of contact, and patted his head reassuringly, as he sidestepped over a cluster of rocks, to retrieve his coat.

Scooping it up, he walked over to the wide-eyed boy, and placed it over his shoulders. He was nearly an adult - too large to carry, so he draped the boy's arm across his shoulders, and hoisted him up. All he could do was offer the blind child assistance walking until he could find a place where his wounds could be treated. And hopefully, someone who could provide him with a voice.

Wandering through the streets looked like something out of a horror film. Everything turned to black or gray, a result of the toxic bomb. What little remained of solid structures was crumbling by the day, for who knows what reason. One couldn't really call it atmosphere for cheery conversation, not that either male was equipped to do so - one being mute, the other unable to see the mute and losing consciousness fast.

- - -

_clank, clank, clank_

The rhythmic pounding and screwing noises echoed in the silence, as the man finished the last additions to his metal creations - An arm, and a leg. They weren't the most glamorous, but since when had he cared? He was raised by a hard working family, for most of his life: Glamour was meaningless.

Now... he had to fasten them on to his body. He'd made false limbs before, but only for others. And the pain of connecting metal to his living nerve system... he could only hope he was ready for it.

Gritting his teeth, he clamped the arm onto his shoulder socket, and quickly snapped the lower leg replacement in just after. Blinding pain. Brilliant, blinding pain shot up his arm and leg and seeped all the way through his system, as it struggled to resist the foreign object.

Through this whole affair, he trembled, and closed his eyes, but refused to cry out in pain. This was nothing...

- - -

The boy was getting heavier by the second, he could have sworn. The nearest standing building would have to do if nothing else, to nurse his injuries. Syaoran, was it? He had held out longer than most would, but still, the man could see the pain getting to him.

_There..._ a crumpled metal hut, still tall enough to duck into. _Hyuu! At last some luck, _He mouthed, laughing soundlessly. He nudged Syaoran with his free hand, attempting to alert him of a nearby resting place. He merely whimpered, and stumbled to the ground. Determinedly, the blonde squatted, carefully hoisting the boy on to his back. He was almost his height - much too large to carry, but the child had gone most of the way on his own, and now there was no option left.

The man stumbled, ducking into the metal shack, and slid down a slight slope into the cave of sorts, and landed face first at the feet of a red-eyed stranger. This would certainly be hard to explain.

- - -

"Who the hell are you people? I don't have room for squatters... augh!" The older of the men had gripped his pants leg, just above where the metal began. It still hurt, and he sat down on a makeshift stool behind him, grinding his teeth.

_Please... _the blonde mouthed. Was that what it was? And why the hell couldn't he just say it? There was no way he'd help a bunch of freaks from out there. Did anyone help his mother and father when all he could do was watch his childhood home up in flames?

_He needs help._ The piercing blue eyes met the sunken red ones. Fire and Ice... They sat for a moment staring, neither refusing to back down. Until finally, the flame-eyed man stood.

"I have bandages. The kid's in bad shape, can you get him on the table yourself?" He stumbled deeper into the cave-like shed, looking for the old 'first aid kit' that was really some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and strips of sheets. Who was he to be helping these radiated strangers? They were nothing to him. But then again, if they were nothing, what did that make him, who had one real arm and less than 2 real legs?

- - -

The blonde carefully slid out from underneath the boy on his back, and stood. He was dripping in sweat, from a combination of exhaustion and fear of the intense eyes of the black-haired man. Was it fear he was feeling, though?

He shook his hair out, and bent to lift Syaoran again into his arms. He was barely awake now. If he went to sleep, it could be for the last time. Gracefully, he laid him on the table the other man had gestured at, as he approached holding a wad of bandages and clear liquid.

"This'll sting, kid..." He heard him whisper as he dripped the liquid onto the streaks at his legs and arms. The boy tensed, and let out another wolf-like whimper, but said no more. His wounds were clean, and the black-haired man began wrapping them tightly with the sheets.

The whole while, the narrower man watched, chin in his hands, elbows resting on the table at the boy's feet. The boy slowly loosened himself, and fell asleep, his cuts still being wrapped. When the job was completed the red eyes fell on him once again.

"Why don't you speak?"

He looked down, wistfully, and moved his hands animatedly, remembering slight bits of sign language he had learned and once knew fluently. The lack of comprehension on the red-eyed man's face caused him to sigh. He placed a hand on his throat, and shrugged, while turning to face the door leading into the ruined streets.

"You can't, can you?"

He glanced upward, at the man, his blue eyes mirroring the curiosity in the red ones. Perhaps the stranger wasn't as ignorant as he looked. He nodded, Letting out a soundless laugh while closing his eyes. Some joke it was, wasn't it?

"Your name?"

This one wasn't the sort for words, hmm? He glanced around, looking for a tool of sorts, and carefully picked a long, sturdy stick up off the ground. He squatted, and neatly wrote in the dirt:

Fai D. Flowright.

He stood, and faced the man, as he stared at the characters in the dirt. He pointed at him, mouthing _And you?_

He sighed. "Well as long as we're stuck together, Fai, you could call me Kurogane."

And smiling, Fai nodded his head.

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Ack... Kuro-tan has automail! XD That was a total accident, **I swear,** but isn't it kind of cool? Heh, anyway... This story has a Chaptire 2 almost finished - the more reviews, the sooner it's posted. And if anyone has a better idea for a genre for this thing, do let me know. I'm not sure how to classify it.

I didn't notice until I had finished that Syaoran used quite a bit of Japanese in this fic. ; And now, japanese for dummies:

Tou-san - Father, dad, daddy. What a child would call their father.

Kaa-san - Mother, Mom, Mommy. What a child would call their mother.

Tasukete - Help, save me.


	2. Whistle

Because I forgot a disclaimer last time, nyaa, let's declare this the official disclaimer for the whole story. :)

**Disclaimer:** Syaoran, Kurogane, Fai and Sakura and anyone else I may decide to thrown in, as well as their story of origin (Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle) belong to CLAMP. The rest is mine, not yours, including this lovely TRC calendar hanging up next to my compy.

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From the Ashes - A TRC AU Drama/Sci-fi fic

Chaptire 2 - Whistle

Rated T for the yummy violence of the whole affair.

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Syaoran awoke to darkness. Cold, unfeeling darkness. He reached up to his face, feeling a slight ache in his arms as he did so, and rubbed his eyes. They were certainly open.

Possibly the worst part of this lack of light was the silence. He sat up, feeling an ache in his legs as well, and frowned. Was anyone there? He listened, sitting as motionless on the wooden surface he found himself on, reaching to hear even a slight breeze.

There it was. Faint breathing, slow breathing - two others near him, he could hear. Relieving, but disturbing at the same time. He could never hear such faint sounds before. But hadn't someone told him... Ah. That's right. His father had told him years ago...

_When one loses one of their senses, the others become stronger, more efficient, to fill the void left by the missing ability._

So he really couldn't see, huh? He sighed, and let his head rest on his knees, as he sat crunched in a ball.

"So you're awake, eh? Boy?" A foreign voice - low, rumbling, strong...

"Uwah! Ah... yes, sir, but I'm afraid I don't know where you are, you see..."

"You're blind. I can tell, by the insecurity in your voice." The man cut his sentence short, completing it. "Also, you haven't made an attempt to get off of the table." Syaoran gasped. _So he is observant..._ This new idea made him more worried than before. If he turned out to be an enemy, he knew his chances of eluding this man were slim to none. He had been taught how to fight, fairly well, actually, but things were different without his eyes to guide him.

"Where am I? Are you the one that pulled me from the debris?" He turned to face the source of the voice, hoping he was close to making eye contact.

"I don't know what debris you were in, or how you got there, just that that blonde over there dragged you in, dripping with blood, insisting you get medical treatment. This is my house, I suppose, and I'm sitting down here, not over there, kid." Syaoran jerked his head abruptly, at the sound of annoyance in the man's last sentence. Apparently his hearing wasn't as acute as he had previously thought.

"Thank you for your help, sir. I'm sorry I inconvenienced you. If there's any way I can make it up to you..." His voice trailed off, as the stranger let out a deep sigh. Both of them knew a blind kid wasn't going to be of much use to anyone, especially in a place as chaotic as their current locale. He closed his eyes, resting his head on his knees, and he could have sworn he _felt_ the other man do the same.

Silence. The sound of air, as it passed through one, two, and a third person's body. Syaoran looked up again, towards the man he had spoken to, and slowly slid himself forward, trying to find the edge of the table. His foot shot off of the edge faster than he would have liked, and hit the floor. Sharp pain, shot up his leg, causing him to stumble, landing palms first, and scraping them against the hard-packed dirt.

This caused yet another spasm of pain, starting at his fingertips, cascading down his arms, and ending at his chest, in a great throb of pain. This caused him to cry out, a small scream, reduced to a whimper by the gritting of his teeth. He lay for a moment, the wind knocked out of him slightly, before struggling to prop himself up.

Before he could do so, there was a sting, like ice, gripping his arm, and helping him to a sitting position. Everything about whatever had gripped him felt wrong to Syaoran - the temperature, the texture, the lifeless quality of it. The second he regained his balance he withdrew his wrist, rubbing it slowly with his palm, as if it would help calm the shivers running down his spine. "That cold... was..."

"My hand... the metal one." The man finished Syaoran's statement, a sound of bitterness in his voice, for reasons unknown to Syaoran. If his hand was metal, what did that mean the rest of him would consist of?

As if he'd read his mind, the man further explained. "The other one's real, and so is one of my legs... I lost some limbs when the bomb dropped, and the whole building came down on us." he stopped abruptly, obviously unwilling to say more. Syaoran smiled. They both shared a common trait, in that they had both bore scars, from the same disastrous event. Strange coincidence, that there would even be 2 survivors, let alone for them to find each other.

"The man who brought me here... he's the other one I hear, right?" Syaoran pointed in the direction of the third inhaling and exhaling pattern. A grunt from the man served as his reply. "And your names? Yours and his, that is."

"Kurogane. And he's Fai, was it? Not too sure about him..." There was an air of distrust in his voice, and Syaoran sighed, wishing he could see if the one who had saved him really looked untrustworthy. He turned to face the sound of Fai's breathing, and froze. It had changed, the rhythm faster, and then he heard foot steps, approaching him and the one called Kurogane.

- - -

The blonde - Fai, was it? - Approached, and ran his fingers through his hair once more. He mouthed what looked like a whistle, and extended a hand, ruffling the boy's hair. He grinned, as the boy looked up in the direction he was standing in.

"Sir... Fai-san? Etou... Thank You very much for helping me. If there's any way I can repay you-" Fai placed a hand on both of Syaoran's, and gripped his chin with the others. He slowly twisted it side to side, shaking his head. He was telling him not to worry. _So they have to communicate through touch,_ Kurogane said, smirking. Perhaps they weren't total fools.

He watched the boy's eyes widen, in understanding, as Fai continued, folding his fingers into a manner so that he was pointing with his index finger. He then jabbed it gently at Syaoran's chest. This confused Kurogane, slightly, and he stood and stared at the peculiar show the thin man was putting on.

"Me... my name? Is that... I'm Syaoran." He stared blankly at Fai, an apologetic expression on his face. It was obvious he felt guilty, for some reason, however pointless it may be. He had to get over this somehow. Kurogane raised an eyebrow as Fai leaned his gangly body over Syaoran, and whispered into his ear. A peculiar man, this one. He'd have to be careful with them both...

- - -

"_Syaoran-kun?" _Fai strained his throat, as if forcing the last bit of his voice out - a faint whisper in the boy's ear. "_Fai._" He withdrew, with this last word, and was seized by a fit of coughs. He _really_ couldn't talk now: it was too much strain even for that slight whisper.

Fai winced, as each cough sucked air from his lungs, and he quickly turned away from the others, stumbling out the door of their make-shift shelter. He leaned against the cracked wall of a nearby building and attempted deep breaths. He stared up at the ashy sky, and counted in his head, as his breathing grew less and less shallow. What a pain, this bomb was causing.

When he regained his senses, he stood, and walked out onto what was once a cobblestone street. There was a few stones remaining in the street, and the rest lay in crooked piles, perfect tripping hazards for the unobservant. He smirked, and kicked a loose book, instantly regretting it for the pain that resulted, shooting up his leg.

He glanced back in the direction of the shelter he'd emerged from, and heard the voices of the two, Syaoran and Kurogane, both possibly questioning his condition. But what good would going back to them do? He couldn't explain himself in words, and they were both ignorant to sign language.

He was better off without them. With a sigh, he continued along the street, coming to a familiar building he recognized as the library. Most of it was in ruins, but the staircase leading downwards into the basement of it was still stable, causing him to wonder. Maybe he'd find something familiar inside. Anything but this repetitive black rubble.

Fai slowly made his way down the steps, taking care not to snag his clothes on any of the protruding pieces of wood and stone. Smiling, he found he could slip down inside easily, and did so, proceeding down another staircase, this one curved, a spiral that went down deep beneath the building. He observed it was made of an old wood of some sort. It seemed sturdy enough to proceed...

And then his foot fell through. Losing his balance completely, he stumbled, as the rest of the step gave way. The blonde came crashing to the ground, landing fairly well in a squatting position 12 feet from his starting point. This wasn't a terrible spot, he concluded. All he had to do was walk back up the stairs and exit.

Unfortunately, he realized, the stairs were nowhere to be found, and walls were in their place. He was some how inside the staircase. _Well, this is not the best of situations, is it?_ Fai sighed, and stood up to measure the length he would have to jump to reach where he had come from. 5 feet, he guessed - 3 feet better than his best, and in pitch blackness.

Could he call for help? He smiled, sadly, shaking his head at no one in particular. That option was no longer his. But who would answer anyway? The blind child and the muscular stranger? He laughed at the thought.

_But... I'm not quite sure I want to die just yet. Not like this, anyway..._ He sighed, and sat down, pondering his next move. It was like chess, and he was currently in check. A win or a lose depended on what he chose to do: How he would ask for aide. And then it struck him.

A whistle.

He had seen the children of the town do this before. It was a game, and music in a light and simple combination. A song, made by wind blowing between teeth and tongue in the appropriate manner, so as to create a song. _Sound._ The thing Fai needed.

If only he knew how. He'd watched it many times, their mouth curved into an 'O', the position they took, how their mouth shifted slightly with the changing notes... he remembered their faces, the notes they created in unison, a windy melody, and he mirrored it.

_- phhhhhh -_

It came out first as air, and as he adjusted the way he held himself, tucking tongue behind teeth, it shifted, and rang clear.

_- pyuu... pyuu... - _

A whistle. He'd found his chance. He shifted his positioning, changing the notes, thrilled, if only for that moment, that he'd achieved something. He then began to weave a song, recalling one of the songs before there had been any talk of war or bombs... he sang the words to match in his head, as he best remembered them.

_Take me away, across time, to a town of wind... _

_Grant the dream of this white flower_

_Take me by the hand with your gentle fingers, guide me, _

_to a distant place, to be by your side..._

He smiled, remembering the love song he'd heard since childhood, and whistled the tune, though the words grew fuzzy as the song progressed. It had been years since he had heard it, and yet the tune still remained, almost a part of his very being. He finished the song once, and without pausing began to repeat.

And as he continued the melody, he silently wished that his song had an audience.

- - -

"His name." Syaoran said, staring off in the direction Fai's seemed to have gone in, and frowning. "He told me I could call him Fai."

"Oh." Came the response from Kurogane. He seemed to Syaoran to be uninterested in finding out anything about their current situation, and this was in obvious contrast to his intentions. Still, perhaps a little prompting would create a different response.

"Kurogane-san?" He started, staring off in the opposite direction, so as not to annoy him with his inability to make eye-contact. "I don't think we can survive here, without water, and all of the toxins from..." His voice faded mid-statement, and Kurogane responded with an irritated sigh.

"And where do you want to go, kid? The rest of the country ain't much better, with all of these bombs they've made... not much still standing, I'm betting."

Syaoran sighed. The odds of finding a stable city after the waves of attacks that had hit their nation were unlikely. Many cities would be in the same sad state, and refugee camps would be few.

"But it couldn't really get worse..." He whispered, half hoping Kurogane hadn't heard him. And it seemed as if he hadn't, as neither said any more for a few moments. Syaoran merely sat, listening. All he could hear was silence, save for the sound of his and the other's breathing. Then something new came...

_- pyuu... pyuu... -_

A soft melody. The first music he'd heard in days. Was it.. whistling? He immediately moved to the edge of the table, and stood, unsteady on the rocky ground.

"Listen to that... there's someone out there. It could be Fai-san." Syaoran moved, as if to walk out the door, but the icy hand gripped his arm, holding him back. The metal rattled, as Kurogane tightened the grip on Syaoran's arm, as he flailed to get away. "What are you..."

"Stop. Remember you can't see. Don't go stumbling off in darkness. Now breath." Syaoran stopped fighting and inhaled deeply, reminded yet again of his newfound disability. "Remember your other senses. You can feel the way the air travels, around the things around you." His ears pricked up, fox-like, at the thought of this. He closed his eyes, and listened.

As Kurogane had said, he could feel the air. But in addition, he could sense the objects around him, living, non-living... So far, only 1 living being accompanied him. He turned to face him, and opened his eyes.

"Now we can walk." Syaoran smiled, as the grip on his arm was released, and he heard Kurogane stand and walk past him. "You can hear something, right? Follow it."

Syaoran nodded, as they stepped out on what sounded like stone. He froze, and instantly heard the soft '_pyuu'_ of the melody, and closed his eyes, walking towards it. By the sound of metal on stone, Kurogane had decided to follow him.

Within moments, the music grew louder, and Syaoran froze beside what he assumed was a building. He placed a hand on the wall, and called out to his companion. "You can hear it too, can't you?"

"Yeah, he's in here. It's him. There's stairs. Watch it." Syaoran blinked at the trust that had been placed in him, as he heard Kurogane enter the building. Though he couldn't see, the man had left him to basically care for himself. It was certainly a relief not to be treated as a cripple. He smiled, and clung tightly to the side of the house, to be sure he had support if he slid, and ducked into the building.

"Fai-san?" He called into the dim room, still listening to the melody. As he cried the name, the tune changed, becoming lighter and more quick. It was him alright.

"Oy! You down there?" Kurogane was calling downwards, by the sound of the echo, and the responding, _'phweeee'_ served as their yes. "Stay there, kid. I'll get him."

Syaoran nodded, in response, and stayed near the door, listening as the whistling melody faded, and the sound of creaking wood replaced it. Wooden stairs, was it? "Is he okay, Kurogane-san?"

_- pwhee -_

The answering cheerful whistle came before Kurogane's reply causing him to sigh. That's an annoying sound. The responding, annoyingly high whistling caused Syaoran to laugh. So they were all okay his new friends, of sorts.

- - -

Once all had made it out of the building, and on to the cobblestone street, Kurogane paused to ruffle the boy's hair. He wasn't at all the free-loader he was expecting. He'd done fairly well. "Not bad... but now where to?"

The boy's vacant eyes looked up at him, curiously, and the blonde cocked his head to the side in puzzlement.

"We're leaving this city." He said firmly. "Just say where we're going."

He smirked as Syaoran's eyes widened at his statement. Something about Kurogane's statement had an interesting affect on the boy.

- - -

"Why not east? There are several countries in that direction, we only just have to walk there."

Three pairs of eyes flashed, one with eagerness, another with amusement, the other, a combination of the 2.

"Then that's where we're headed."

With that statement, they turned and walked side-by-side away from the faint glow of the setting sun seeping through the gray sky.

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Note: The lyrics were translations from "Kaze no Machi e", a lovely Tsubasa song I chose at random.

Yawns 4 hours later than I would have liked, I finished this. Sakura is coming next chaptire, don't worry. :P


	3. Victim

**Disclaimer:** See previous chaptire.

From the Ashes - A TRC AU fic

Chaptire 3 - Victim

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It was officially cold. Really cold, he'd reckon. He didn't exactly have a thermometer handy. But still... it was cold enough for some strange gray snow to trickle down from the matching sky - ashes mixed with ice, that both stung to the touch, and left gritty residue on the surfaces it touched.

After about 5 minutes his skin was an annoying color of blotchy gray similar to his visible metal arm. It was the start of a lovely morning, following an equally pleasant sleepless night under the shell of a car. The sounds of the whimpering boy, and restless blonde still rang in his ears, mingling with the sound of his rumbling stomach. It'd been a day and a half since there'd been anything _resembling_ food lying around, and it was starting to affect him.

Mortality was seeming more and more like a weakness all the time.

"Kurogane-san?" The kid. He glanced to his right, spotting Syaoran, with a worried expression on his face, his walking slowed, as he struggled to find grip on the new terrain they'd reached. Gravel, it looked like, mingled with larger rocks, and he was having trouble.

"Ah?" He didn't bother looking in his direction, but stopped walking to wait for him to stabilize himself. With a quick 'uwaah!', the child failed, tripping over a decent sized rock and smashing his chest against it as he fell. _This isn't going to be easy..._

"Oye! Come help him up." He beckoned the other man, who glanced back, inquiringly, as if asking _'why?'_. The blonde, turned and slowly walked over, taking time to look at where he'd place his next step, and the color of his skin, as the snow continued to fall...

_The bastard's stalling..._ Kurogane snorted, and roughly yanked the man's arm, towing him over to where Syaoran lay. "There. You fix it."

The responding look of surprise on his face, and in his eyes made Kurogane pause. Why was he acting so naive? It was all a pointless game he played. Anyone with eyes could tell he was playing them all for fools. Which, he observed, made one of them.

- - -

The roads were fairly easy to navigate by sound, but the further they got from the city, the harder it became. Rocks, sticks, various sharp objects he couldn't recognize - all served as constant tripping hazards, for his 'condition'. He'd fallen at least a dozen times since daybreak, and he was doing so more frequently now that fatigue from lack of sleep and food was setting in.

He'd landed on something hard this time, and the pain from teeth meeting tounge, paired with a familiar wet, metallic taste in his mouth was not soothing. A tugging at his sleeve, cold hands... Fai was... pulling him up. No! He promised he wouldn't be a burden...

"Ah! No, stop!" He pulled himself from Fai's grip. "I'm alright, Fai-san. Really, it's just-" He winced, feeling a slight ache in his side as he crouched and stood. "I'm fine." He smiled, hoping it'd reassure him. The silence from the other made him feel they'd been unconvinced. He took a few hurried steps forward in the direction they'd been headed, to further prove his point. The two others followed quickly after him, but said nothing. A few moments passed.

"There's a town, over there." Kurogane stated, breaking the silence that had settled over them, much like the snow. "Looks like it's still intact, too. We can probably find food."

Syaoran nodded in reply, wishing he could asses the status of the town with his own eyes, but Syaoran turned after Kurogane, who had already changed course towards this new town.

They reached it shortly, he noticed, as the jagged stone became smooth, the sound his worn boots made with each step told him it was cobblestone. Perhaps there would be some shelter here.

- - -

_Well this is quaint..._ He let out a silent sigh of exasperation, as his eyes took in the poor state of the little town. Most of the building's windows were nailed shut, by boards, and other crude objects, the roofs missing shingles, and at worst, having large voids in them.

Further down the street, however, a single lantern hung from a crooked pole, its weak glow illuminating a sign reading 'Red Phil's'. He swept a strand of light hair from in front of his eyes, and squinted at it. The words were simple enough, but their meaning seemed pointless in combination. Nevertheless, where there was writing and light, there must be people.

Fai pursed his lips, releasing a slight whistle, which he paired with a wave of his hand. Pausing, he noticed Syaoran stop walking and turn in his direction, his eyes staring somewhere over his shoulder. He was getting closer, at least...

The other, Kurogane, merely grunted and kept walking. Hmm, someone was feeling a bit rude, today...

Smirking, Fai sped up, giving Syaoran an affectionate tap on the head as he passed, and continued up the street towards Kurogane. Silently, he crept directly behind him, and extended his hands above his head. With gracefully ease, he gripped Kurogane's shoulders, and sprung off of the ground, curling his legs around his waist. Once his legs were in place, he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, whispering soundlessly into his ear. "_Hyuu."_

At this, Kurogane tensed, and Fai swore he saw puffs of steam pouring from the man's ears, complimented by a growling noise he supposed was coming from somewhere on his face.

- - -

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, you bastard!" Kurogane unclenched his fists, gripping the thin, pale wrists around his necks, and pulling. They broke apart fairly easily, as the blonde man on his back flopped sideways, gripping his shirt, struggling to keep from falling. Kurogane responded with a sweep of his metal arm, striking the man's side, and sending him flying to the ground, his head smacking against the cold stone.

He froze, staring down at the disoriented blonde, clutching his false arm, as if to restrain it. Fai's eyes opened, slowly, his shocked blue eyes staring up at him. Slowly, he propped himself up on one elbow, and placed a hand on the back of his head. He winced, as he withdrew it, his fingers stained a dark crimson.

Kurogane stumbled a step backwards, gazing down at Fai. He'd really done it this time... But before he could say anything, Fai smiled, a brief look of absolution in his eyes. His smile widened, as he sat up, pointing ahead. Kurogane whirled around, defensively, and his eyes fell upon a shabby bar, of some kind, boards in place of the few small windows he guessed had once been there. Everything about it screamed 'abandoned', but a small sign reading 'OPEN' hung on the doorknob, swaying in the slight breeze.

He turned, intending to help Fai to his feet, but saw only cobblestone where he had been sitting. Instead, a few feet away, Fai had already wandered off to assist Syaoran, who, after Kurogane's slight outburst, had wandered off in the opposite direction, waving his arms in a state of confusion. Fai had pranced off, whistling and flapping his arms in a similar manner, attempting to halt the disoriented boy, leaving Kurogane to watch the scene unfold. He would've laughed, were they not his companions, but as they were his allies, he merely sighed in embarrassment.

If another bomb were to destroy his city, he'd be sure to be more selective about who he saved next time.

- - - - - - - -

"So, who the hell are you 'lot?"

The bartender eyed them all, through her one good eye, the other covered by a black patch, and unruly red curls. She sneered at each in turn, revealing several gaps in her yellowed teeth.

"We're travelers." Syaoran said, politely, before Kurogane could say anything too offensive, in response to the woman's rudeness. The threesome were lined up on old wooden bar stools, all of which were missing a cushion or crooked. Fai's was a delightful combination of both.

"Not often we see a group of travelers. Not exactly a tourist spot, this hell-hole, since all the air raids." The woman responded, masquerading disconcern, as she dried a damp, grimy cup with an equally grimy towel. "We usually only get the shady types, coming to loot us." At this, her eyes fell upon Kurogane, who stared back at her calmly, seemingly unaffected by her hints at their innocence.

"So, do you have a place for us to stay, or not?" He said, folding his arms across his chest just so, as to hide the visible metal.

"You guys can crash in the basement, I suppose, but we have a pretty bad infestation of something." Syaoran flinched, and shrunk down in his chair a bit, silent, eyes staring glassily ahead. It really wasn't his idea of 'fun' to have things crawling on him he couldn't see.

The woman noticed his discomfort, and stooped to look at him, cocking an eyebrow at him. "You okay, kid?" He nodded, quickly, and looked downward, attempting to hide his eyes. She tutted, and returned to 'cleaning' the glasses and things, as the trio sat in silence, staring at the muddy drinks she had set before them. Simultaneously, they slid the glass as far away from them as possible, and turned to look out at the rest of the bar. (Well, Fai had to stand up and turn manually, due to the state of his chair, but he managed, anyway.)

It was a small place, fairly crowded with tables and chairs all occupied by a mixture of gamblers and the 'down-on-their-luck', all of whom seemed to be getting more intoxicated by the minute. With intoxication and a large amount of testosterone and cigarette smoke usually comes violent behavior, as was happening before their eyes.

Seemingly without a cause, one patron threw himself across a table at another, toppling the table, and spilling foreign liquid all over the side of Kurogane's pants, as the two continued to beat each other, to Syaoran's cries of 'What happened?' and 'Why are people cheering?'. Fai promptly stood, and nudged his two companions a few stools over in the other direction, as two more men joined in the brawl.

The other side of the room was more peaceful, at least for a bar. After a few minutes of watching a table of men slide flat plastic circles back and forth across the table, each holding cards of some kind - "Poker", was it? - they grew bored, and began to take interest in other things. Kurogane - in twisting and untwisting a screw in his wrist; Fai - in tilting his chair back and forth on the crooked legs, making a rhythmic drumming of sorts he began to sway contently to. Syaoran, however, merely rested his hands on the counter and listened. Glasses clinking, agitated screams, laughing and drunken songs; Slowly they merged together, forming an orchestra of sorts, though a disorganized one. Syaoran sighed.

"C'mere, sweet thing."

"Stop it!"

"There's a nice girl. Come sit next to me, princess."

"Get off!"

Syaoran's ears pricked up, and he spun around leaning forward in the direction of the sound. The voices grew louder, more joined in - all obviously male, save for one.

"Don'cha wanna play, Little Kitty?"

"Don't touch me!"

"Just a little taste, honey. Just one feel."

Syaoran's eyes widened, and he reached a hand to his right, finding Fai's sleeve. The blonde turned, looking down at the boy, who pointed at the corner of the room where a crowd of men stood huddled around something flailing. His eyes widened, as he gave a disapproving whistle, and reached to tap Kurogane on the shoulder.

"I want the first bite."

"Let me go! Don't touch me!"

"We're paying customers, hon. Shut up and hold still."

Kurogane's eyes flashed over to the corner, and he sighed. "They're going to rape her," he said, blankly, and turned away sadly to resume playing with his screws. Fai also gave a sad nod and turned to look at Syaoran. To his surprise, he saw only an empty stool, and a flash of green as the boy leapt to his feet, dashing in the direction of the corner. He reached to grab his sleeve, but missed, hearing the words, "That's so cruel..." as the boy, stumbled in between tables at a sprint towards the disturbance.

Unsure of how many drunken perverts awaited him, or how large they might be, he tore ahead, towards the voice of the lone girl.

"Help me!"

Stumbling over a table, knocking poker chips to the floor in the process, he lunged straight at one of the anonymous voices, finding his neck, and gripping hard.

"Get your hands off of her!"

The man fell over backwards, startled by the sudden attack as Syaoran quickly leapt over him at where he thought the next stranger was. This time, he dove feet first, the soles of his shoes clashing hard against his stomach, causing a cry of, "-the fuck!" as his head smacked against the wall hard.

Nimbly, Syaoran sprung to a crouching position, trying to find the next target. Before he could move, though, a pair of hands wrapped around his neck, lifting him off the ground, his toes barely grazing the floor. He gasped, desperate for air as the stranger's grip tightened.

"Damn kid! We saw her first, she's our bitch!" Syaoran winced, eyes flashing open, as he flailed his arms trying to break free. He couldn't go much longer without air...

Suddenly, he felt the hands disappear completely, as a loud crunching sound was heard, followed by a string of profanities, and then silence from the stranger.

"She's no one's prey tonight. And neither is he." Kurogane stared down at the twitching man on the floor as Fai skipped over to stand beside him, clapping and whistling. The two remaining men holding the girl gaped at the trio, and then lunged forward - one at Fai, the other at Kurogane - as Syaoran crawled over toward the soft crying of the girl in the corner.

"You bastard-" Came the first's cry as he swung an arm towards Fai, still running forward. Smiling, Fai ducked, tucking his head between his knees. The startled attacker tripped right over him, not thinking to stop in the short amount of time between Fai's crouching, and his colliding with Fai. The attacker's nose smashed against a table as he flew over the blonde man, cussing, and flailing.

The second of the pair drew a gun from behind his back, loading it as he charged at Kurogane. Kurogane smirked, reaching forward to grab the gun in one swift motion, startling the carrier of the weapon, who stumbled. Seizing this opportunity, he thrust his elbow into the back of his neck, sending the stranger's face into the floorboards... hard.

Meanwhile, Syaoran had managed to reach the corner without being detected. In the general chaos of the pub, it was becoming increasingly hard to hear, especially as more spectators gathered to watch Kurogane and Fai. Suddenly, his palm grasped something cold and soft, resulting in a shriek, and the object withdrawing from him.

"Please, miss! Don't be afraid! I've come to get you out of here." As he said this, he raised a hand, slowly moving toward what the girl had moved before. Finding it, he realized it was a foot, and stroked it gently. She flinched.

"No!" She shrieked, and he felt her withdraw from him, squeezing her body tighter into the corner, her breathing shallow, panicked. Syaoran reached a hand again, holding it out to her, pleadingly.

"Please, take my hand... I don't want to leave you here alone..." He felt a slight color rise in his cheeks at the openness of his statement, but felt her freeze. The words had done their job. Quietly, nervously, she placed her hand in the palm of his.

"Kid!"

Syaoran's head shot up, only to be gripped by Kurogane's large hand, which lifted him to a low crouch. He yelped, but placed a second hand on top of the girl's, reassuringly, as he pulled her to her feet, beside him.

"Kurogane-san?"

"We're leaving."

Syaoran felt his arm jerk, as the tall man began towing him in the direction of the exit. Taking advantage of having another guide him, Syaoran focused in on the various sounds in the room. Moaning, cursing, breaking glass, and general angry grunting met his ears.

- - - - - - - -

Outside on the street, they heard soft applause paired with whistling from Fai.

"Etou... What happened in there, Kurogane-sa-"

"Don't ask, just take the girl, and walk. We've got about 2 minutes before they realize we've left."

Syaoran blinked and shook his head, smiling at the now apparent eccentricity of his companions, when it came to handling problems. He closed his eyes, smiling backwards in the direction of the girl, who trailed reluctantly behind him. "You're safe now. I've got you."

"Safe...?" The girl spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper, as she gazed in awe at the odd trio that had rescued her. The silent blonde, who merely beamed and whistled; the strong and silent one, his red eyes staring at all around him with an intensity she couldn't quite comprehend; and the third, the ragged chocolate-haired boy, with such lonely eyes...

In an instant, her legs gave beneath her, resulting in a panicked cry of "Miss!" from Syaoran as he suddenly felt her form fall into his arms, causing him to stumble. Forward.

"Ah." Fai slid behind Syaoran, aiding him in supporting the girl's body, as her lids began to slide closed.

"She's exhausted..." Kurogane stated roughly, staring down at the jade-eyed child. "We'll have to carry her. He sighed, knowing full well the definition of 'we' in such situations was not what it was to the majority of society. In a rush, Syaoran reached for the girl's hand, clasping it tightly in his.

"Miss, may I ask..." He leaned close to her, speaking softly and sweetly, so as not to startle her, "What is your name?"

As her eyes slid closed, the last bit of jade disappearing, she sighed in relieve, and mumbled, "Sakura... and thank you..."

"Sweet dreams, Sakura-sama." Syaoran whispered, a smile spreading across his face, mirroring the girl's as she drifted into a deep sleep.

-----------------

Sheesh. For how long this took, I'm not satisfied. I think I switched POVs too much, but I wasn't really sure how to tell the story otherwise. Anywho. Sakura isn't a whore or anything... Her identity in the story so far was somewhat of an indentured servant, but more on her may come later. I'm not sure when the next update on this will be, as I have 2 other fics running, but keep an eye out.


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